Moving stealthily, I found the vial, unstoppered it, and ingested a few drops. Moments later, I felt it take effect.
Downstairs, all was quiet. The empty common room was closed for the night. In the darkness I navigated the narrow hallway to Galatea’s room.
The door was not locked. Very quietly, I unlatched the handle, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
A small lamp set atop the trunk burned very low. I had been wrong about at least one thing: Galatea slept with a sheet over her. No glimmer of flesh was revealed by the lamp’s slanting amber glow, only a jumbled linen landscape of ridges and shadows.
Next to the lamp, something shone brightly. It was a silver coin. Drawn by its glitter, I leaned over the trunk and took a closer look.
It was a shekel of Tyre, but not just any shekel. The profile of Melkart had no nose.
What were the chances that I should see not one, but two of these rare coins in a single day?
I took a closer look. Almost certainly, this was the very coin that Kerynis had shown me. How had Galatea come to have it—unless Kerynis had given it to her? And why would any man give a silver coin of such value to a mere serving girl—unless she had performed a service far more valuable than pouring wine?
To how many others in the tavern that night had Kerynis paid a silver shekel, in return for their flawless performances? He could have given a shekel to every man there and still have plenty left over.
I heard a sleepy sigh. I turned and stood at the foot of the bed. Suddenly angry at having been made a fool, I clutched the nearest corner of the sheet and yanked it from the bed.
I had been right about one thing: Galatea slept in the nude. The play of the soft amber light across her recumbent form sent a stab of longing through me despite my anger.
But she was not alone.
Next to her was Kerynis, equally naked. The two of them stirred, sleepily clutching for the sheet that had been so rudely taken from them.
A new thought occurred to me, running counter to the first: what if Kerynis had paid Galatea the shekel for the pleasure of her company, and not for going along with the pretense that two traveling fools were temporarily invisible? If that were true, my flash of anger was unjustified, and the potion did work—in which case, neither of them could see me standing before them, completely naked.
An instant later, I was disabused of this notion by Kerynis himself. Groggy from wine and who could say what other pleasures, he scooted to one side of the bed and managed to make a bit of room between himself and Galatea, then patted the empty spot.
“Come to join us, you studly Roman? The three of us can reenact the amorous encounter of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Queen Laodice!”
Galatea laughed, looked at me through narrow eyes, and flashed a sleepy smile. She joined Kerynis in patting the empty spot.
The two of them could see me, after all.
“But Teacher, I don’t understand why you’re won’t take legal action. Doesn’t Tyre have magistrates? Call the scoundrel into a court of law and demand that he return the money to you in exchange for all these worthless books!”
The first light of morning had been seeping from the open window when I woke Antipater and told him what I had discovered. Now bright, slanting sunlight shone on the masts in the harbor, and still we were arguing.
“No, no, Gordianus. I won’t do it. The money is his now, and the books are mine, and that’s the end of it.”
“It’s not right,” I said. “You were taken advantage of. He made fools of us both.”
Antipater raised a snowy brow. “Is it seemly, to call your old tutor a fool?”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” I paced the room. “Whenever I think of it, my face burns hot.”
“Think of what?”
“How they must all have been laughing at us, behind our backs. That whole roomful of men, paid off by Kerynis to go along with his charade. We thought we were fooling them, walking around invisible, but they were fooling us! Because they could see us the whole time!”
“Consider the acting skills required for such a performance,” said Antipater thoughtfully. “It’s quite remarkable that none of them burst into laughter.”
“Well, I’m sure they’re laughing at us now. And they’ll laugh every time they tell the story. When I think of it—”
“Then my advice, Gordianus, is that you do not think of it.”
I drew a sharp breath. “If I could have stolen the money back from Kerynis, I would have. But I had no weapon on me …” The fact that I had not even had clothes, much less a weapon, when I encountered Kerynis, I had not revealed to Antipater. It seemed best to leave out certain details of my nocturnal encounter.
“But there was no theft in the first place, Gordianus. What law was broken?”
“Kerynis defrauded you!”
“About the potion, yes. But I wasn’t paying him for the potion; I was paying him for the Books of Secret Wisdom.”
“And what makes you think those aren’t frauds as well? Useless forgeries, utter gibberish—”
“Because last night I had the chance to closely examine them. I have no doubt: these are indeed the Books of Secret Wisdom spoken of in the legends of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser.”
“But the invisibility potion was useless. We both felt a little giddy, but it didn’t make us invisible.”
“True, that batch of potion was useless; but it does not follow that the recipe itself is useless. Kerynis was at fault, not the scroll. The fellow was probably too lazy to go searching for all the proper ingredients to make a genuine batch. For one thing, I think he’s mistaken when it comes to identifying this so-called chameleon herb. I suspect it’s a plant not native to these parts at all—and it may take quite a bit of further research to determine exactly what plant the text refers to.”
“But, Teacher, what makes you think these Books of Secret Wisdom are any less fraudulent than the man who sold them to you?”
For a moment Antipater appeared to be taken aback, then he gave me a stony look. “I believe in the Books of Secret Wisdom, Gordianus, because I believe in the legends, and the legends affirm that the magic in these scrolls does exist—if we can but interpret their wisdom correctly.”
I took a deep breath. There was no arguing with a man’s faith in the legends of his childhood.
“So, Gordianus—where is our friend Kerynis now?”
“He left the tavern at first light, taking his loot with him. But we could still track him down—”
“No, no, no!” Antipater was adamant. “I am glad that you happened to encounter him and that you got the truth out of him, about the useless potion. I trust that neither of you was harmed during the interchange? You didn’t come to blows?”
“No. No violence, no physical contact … of that sort.”
He responded to this ambiguous addendum with a blank look but let it pass. “And I’m sorry that you had to face such a disappointment when you went to the girl’s room. Not only did you realize that she had taken part in deceiving us, but you discovered her in the arms of another man. Alas! Another had plucked the fruit before you. I take it that Kerynis turned tail and ran at once after you got the truth out of him?”
I shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “Not exactly.”
“Ah. So you extracted the truth from him, then left him there, in bed with the girl?”
“No, I saw him get dressed and leave the room. Eventually.”
Antipater frowned. “I can’t be sure when I fell asleep, but I’ve been thinking you went to the girl’s room shortly before dawn, and returned very shortly thereafter, at first light. Or … did you go to her room earlier than that? Just how long were the three of you in that girl’s room—and what kept you so long?” He watched me fidget and raised an eyebrow. “Well, never mind. It’s none of my business. Just as my acquisition of these books, and the price I paid for them, is none of yours. Agreed?”